


When Did You Know?

by Incandescentflower



Series: Finding Their Way [7]
Category: 30歳まで童貞だと魔法使いになれるらしい | Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! (TV)
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Married Kurodachi, Mementos, Oblivious!Adachi, Stationary Romance, Teasing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 13:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30022233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incandescentflower/pseuds/Incandescentflower
Summary: Soft boys teasing while also somehow making serious love confessions in bed in the early morning hours.
Relationships: Adachi Kiyoshi/Kurosawa Yuichi
Series: Finding Their Way [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030785
Comments: 26
Kudos: 83
Collections: CheriMaho White Day Gift Exchange 2021





	When Did You Know?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Funyarinpa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funyarinpa/gifts).



> This is in response to Funya's prompt:
> 
> I need them to have the talk about how long it’s been since Kurosawa’s been in love with Adachi. Gimme the tooth rotting fluff. Maybe he kept a box with silly mementos, like that napkin Adachi used once, the train ticket for the work travel they had to do, the leaf he picked in his hair, photos from work meetings, idk. Just Kurosawa being a sap and Adachi being loved.
> 
> I had been thinking about this for a bit and wanted to get this drabble done in time for the exchange. Hope you like my silliness, Funya!

Adachi kind of loved it when he woke up before Kurosawa. Even now, if Kurosawa was awake, he almost always had this air of composure, of trying to take care of everything, make everything smoothed out, everything right. 

Kurosawa couldn’t help himself. He had clearly been doing it for so long, he didn’t know how not to. But when he was asleep, his face was pressed against the pillow, smooshing his cheeks in a way that made him look child-like and innocent. His forehead would crinkle, the normal placidity peeled off, showing all that was underneath. 

Adachi especially loved it when he saw the dampness at the corner of his mouth. Yes, Kurosawa Yuichi often drooled in his sleep. It was a fact Adachi was sure very few people knew. 

Adachi loved that he had this knowledge.

Kurosawa’s eyes flicked open. He smiled, bright and wide. As he shifted his face off his pillow, a large red crease across his cheek revealed itself. Adachi could not help himself. He laughed and kissed the mark thoroughly.

“I’m not complaining, but what was that about?” Kurosawa asked. 

“I love sleep wrecked Yuichi,” he said. 

“What do you mean--”

“You’ve got a little something,” Adachi said, motioning at the corner of his own mouth.

Kurosawa frowned then dabbed at it, a look of horror as he wiped away his own drool. 

“Oh come on,” Adachi said. “That is adorable. I didn’t say your nose hair was showing.”

Kurosawa reached out and wrestled Adachi into his arms. Adachi could not help but laugh as they grabbed at each other, their blunt motions fairly quickly transforming into softer, gentler movements, until their lips met and their bodies pressed close. 

Adachi finally settled into the spot under the crook of Kurosawa's arm, Adachi's head resting on his chest. It was Adachi's favorite place as of late. 

He pressed the bottom of his foot against Kurosawa’s calf, the hair on Kurosawa's legs soft against his sensitive skin. Adachi linked his finger’s with Kurosawa’s as he held up their hands in front of the both of them, two glimmering matching rings on both of their hands. 

Adachi was still not used to the weight on his finger. He would find himself twisting it or shifting it, just experiencing it there on his hand. It was something so small, and yet so significant.

“When did you know?” Kurosawa asked, as he reached with his right hand and twisted Adachi’s ring. Adachi raised his head to look at Kurosawa, trying to understand what he needed at that moment. “That you wanted to get these?” He clarified.

“When you offered me the pens,” Adachi said, no hesitation. 

“Oh come on, Kiyoshi, that can’t be right.” Kurosawa leaned down and pressed a kiss on Adachi's head. 

“Okay, yes, it took me some time to really think about everything and work the specifics out.” Adachi was threading their fingers together, the hum of his voice vibrating back off Kurosawa’s chest. “But I knew that day that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

Adachi shifted to his side, their hands between their bodies. He looked Kurosawa straight in the eye. “I never wanted to spend another day without you, my husband.” Adachi raised Kurosawa’s hand and kissed it gently. Kurosawa blushed. His continued look of shock when Adachi called him his husband was possibly the best part of them taking the step and filing the paperwork. “Those were some hard days, Yuichi,” Adachi said, as he pushed out his lip in a playful pout.

“I suppose we must never put you through such trials again, my love,” Kurosawa said, amazingly light for how difficult that time had been for the both of them. But they could be light now. It was the path they had to walk to get where they were.

“When did you know?” Adachi asked. Whenever they talked about such things, Kurosawa always spoke in generalities as if his heart had always belonged to Adachi. “When exactly did you know you loved me? All that time I heard your thoughts, were you in love with me then?”

Kurosawa laughed. Not a small, meek laugh, but a large, boisterous from deep down inside laugh. Adachi thought Kurosawa might not ever catch his breath, he laughed for so long. When he finally finished, he grabbed his own chest, steadying his breathing from the exertion. 

“Yuichi, why is that funny?”

“Kiyoshi, I’ve loved you ever since you rescued me from that awful dinner with President Matsuura. 

“Uh one, I did not rescue you. I seem to recall you staggering out of there on your own. It really was quite memorable. And two, Yuichi, that was like five years ago.” 

“It was seven years ago.”

“No, this is you being a hopeless romantic,” Adachi said, shaking his head. His voice still light, still teasing. “There is no way, you felt this way that long ago.” 

“You want me to prove it?” Kurosawa said, sitting up, a look of determination on his face. “I can prove to you how stupidly in love I was with you. Don’t make me.”

Adachi sat up to meet him. “Now you have no choice,” he said. Kurosawa grabbed him and pulled him in for a long, soft kiss. When they had had their fill, Adachi said, “We cannot allow our first fight as husbands to go unresolved.” 

“I wouldn’t call this a fight…” Kurosawa said. 

“Shhhh.” Adachi pressed his finger awkwardly to Kurosawa’s lips. “Fighting means making up.” He settled into his spot. “Come on, give me this proof.”

Kurosawa’s face changed at that, his smile fading. He opened his mouth as though he was about to say something and then stopped. “Okay,” he said finally, getting up and going to his closet. 

He came back to the bed with a small silver cardboard box. Kurosawa opened it, placing the cover on the bed in front of Adachi as he moved different items around in it and then retrieved something out of it. 

He handed Adachi a paper receipt for a taxi service. The date on it was indeed seven years ago. “What is this?” Adachi asked.

Kurosawa was glancing down, stroking Adachi's thigh with his thumb. Adachi rarely saw him look so unsure. “It was the receipt from the taxi you got me that took me home that night.”

“You kept this?” Adachi’s stomach dropped.

“You gathered me all up in my sad state and hailed a cab. Then you paid for it, fixed my shirt collar and sent me home.” He looked back up at Adachi. “You were so kind.” Kurosawa’s eyes had taken on a glassy quality. 

“Yuichi,” Adachi asked carefully, “what else is in the box?”

Kurosawa gave Adachi a bittersweet smile and pushed the box over to him. Adachi began picking out items. 

First a mechanical pencil.

“I couldn’t find my pen and you saw me looking for it and gave that to me.”

Then a binder clip. 

“We were putting together a report and all my papers kept getting disorganized and you ran to the supply closet and got that for me.”

Then a stack of post-it notes stuck together. 

“ _Thank you for your help,_ ” Adachi read. 

“That was on the stack of files I had given you when you returned them to me.”

“ _Hope you’re feeling better today_. _Forgot to give this back to you. It dropped last night._ ”

“You left that one on my desk with a button from my jacket the day after you helped me home.”

Adachi looked back down in the box again and picked up a round item. “This is the button?”

Kurosawa nodded.

He read the final post-it, “ _Your presentation today was great. I hope you don’t forget you're amazing enough._ ”

“Do you remember that?” Kurosawa asked, squeezing Adachi’s leg.

Adachi looked up at his love, the world slightly tilting on its axis. “Yes. You looked frustrated after your presentation and I remembered what you had said that night in the park and I wanted you to remember what I said.” Adachi’s voice was trembling a bit. “I just wanted to help.”

“I know,” Kurosawa said, a tear slowly trailing down his cheek. “And that is when I knew I really, truly loved you.” 

“Yuichi, why didn’t you say? How did I not know?” Adachi’s chest ached, remembering the depth to Kurosawa’s expressions those times when Adachi had pulled away.

“I tried. I would ask you to have lunch or try to give you gifts and you just didn’t seem to want the attention. I didn’t know how to--”

“I’m sorry,” Adachi said with a gasp. He could not hold it back. “I didn’t know you saw me.” He put all the items carefully back in the box and placed it to the side. Adachi pulled Kurosawa close, wanting to wrap himself up in him, wanting to stay that way in Kurosawa’s arms. 

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Kurosawa said, voice gentle. “We both needed to find our way to each other.” He pulled back, this time Kurosawa meeting Adachi’s eyes. “I would have waited another seven years if that is what you needed, Kiyoshi. I want your happiness above anything else.”

“Stop it,” Adachi said, giving him a playful push. “Stop being so understanding. It is going to make winning fights very difficult.”

“I’ll happily concede, if that means we can move onto the making up part?” Kurosawa asked, as Adachi wiped the tears from both his and Kurosawa’s eyes.

“Do you even know what you are conceding to?” Adachi asked.

“No, absolutely not,” Kurosawa admitted.

“Do you promise to never again wait seven years to tell me how you feel about something?”

“I promise,” Kurosawa said, hand to his heart. 

“And, do you promise to not forget how amazing you are?” Adachi needed Kurosawa to hear it again. He wasn’t sure Kurosawa really believed it yet, but he had the rest of their lives to remind him.

“I promise, my husband,” Kurosawa said. 

“Good,” Adachi said, giving Kurosawa another soft, slow kiss. “Then yes, it’s time for me to make up with you.”

Kurosawa frowned, looking a bit confused. “Isn’t that something we do together?”

“Not the way I am planning to do it,” Adachi said, pushing Kurosawa down flat on the bed and pulling the covers over his head.

They let the morning bleed into the day. Adachi took his time, determined to make sure Kurosawa understood that Adachi returned his love tenfold. 

When Kurosawa dozed off, Adachi got out of bed with an idea to continue this effort. He rifled through the drawer of the new desk in the living room. He took out a post-it pad and peeled off the one on top. 

Adachi would do whatever it took to make sure Kurosawa understood the depths of his love for him. For love was not merely a word said in a moment or a short burst of feeling, but an action carried out day after day. 

He wrote on the peeled off note and placed the remainder of the pad in his backpack, a plan for future days. 

The note Adachi pressed to the bedside table said:

_I love you. I choose you. You will always be amazing enough, my husband._


End file.
